


Frat Boy Fucks Professor?? *Not Clickbait*

by orphan_account



Series: Frat Boys Suck At Relationships?? *Not Clickbait* [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BUT THEY'RE IN COLLEGE, Frat Boy Claude, Frat Bros Are Stupid! (Not News), I'm so sorry Mr Hart i'm sure ur a great cook i just made u really fucking stupid in this xoxo, M/M, Professor Danny, Teacher-Student Relationship, no actual sex sorry i keep doing this to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Claude’s already feeling pretty awful, so he doesn’t even scramble to leave like he usually would if he was sitting in the cafeteria kitchen eating a bad cheese sandwich and his professor just came in, he’s almost braindead from how tired he is and decides to offer his sandwich to his professor who looks just as tired as he is.“You come here often?” Because, like, fuck you he’s a frat bro and proud, he’s going to flirt with any attractive man near him. His professor - Mr Briere, which he really should start referring to by name instead of just ‘Professor’ - is like, decent. He’s not gorgeous but Claude’s twenty-two and horny all the fucking time, so, he’ll do.Briere shakes his head and then actually takes the sandwich and eats it. Which is a major dub for Claude. “I have you for a class.”
Relationships: Danny Briere/Claude Giroux
Series: Frat Boys Suck At Relationships?? *Not Clickbait* [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142432
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Frat Boy Fucks Professor?? *Not Clickbait*

**Author's Note:**

> so the tk/patty one was meant to be brioux but i decided it would work better for them. so now i'm back with my cringy porn parody titles and here is brioux. okay. eat up, bud, eat up.

Listen, Claude prides himself on not being a total idiot - for the most part. Sure, there’s the time he groped a police officer but to be totally honest, the officer was flirting with him so _excuse_ him for making the first move. And sure, he did get surgery on both wrists at the same time, meaning he was basically armless for a few weeks but like, scheduling and shit, it made sense at the time. And sure, yeah, he did decide to major in law which is probably the stupidest decision someone could make because he’s had like nine breakdowns this week over his upcoming exam and it’s only Tuesday.

  
You could say he’s crushing this whole college thing. You’d be wrong. But, you could say it.

He’s also the leader of a frat which, like, in and of itself is a sign of serious mental issues, but he joined as a joke and then it wasn’t a joke and now he’s stupidly attached to the weird group of men that he lives with. So, maybe it was his own fault to begin with.

Anyways, he’s sitting in the living room on the ground in front of the sofa, because he’s weird and likes sitting on the ground, watching shitty reality tv when Nolan comes in and basically face plants on the sofa behind Claude’s head. Cute. And like, yeah, he’s the frat leader (Frat Captain? He’ll ask about that later) so he probably should do something about Nolan but he’s also super absorbed in the episode of Love Island currently playing so Nolan can either wait or be a big boy and just tell Claude what’s happening.

But considering Nolan would rather swallow a knife then admit to having feelings, they sit in silence for a few moments. Claude’s good at just sitting with Nolan, some guys find Nolan’s silence uncomfortable and slightly psycho but Claude doesn’t mind it that much because talking is exhausting.

Fine okay, he’ll bite the bullet and ask; “Where’s your yappy boyfriend?” 

“Dead.” Nolan grunts.

_Lol okay_. So Nolan’s not going to take the free therapy session Claude is offering. Whatever. “Sucks, bud. I hate when my boyfriends die.”

_RIP TK, you will be remembered. Mostly because Nolan always talks about you but also because you’re like, rad and totally out of Nolan’s league and way better at hockey than the backup winger._

Nolan grunts again so Claude lets his mind wander. He wonders if the guys would chirp him for buying a flip phone. He’s been watching a shit ton of 2000s tv while studying and now he’s semi-obsessed (totally obsessed) with getting one. He’d get it in pink, obviously, and maybe he’d get little charms to attach to it and it’d sparkle and be totally cool. How fucking sick would that be? TK’d probably hype him up because TK loves weird stuff like that - Oh right Nolan’s problems. 

“You gonna tell me?”

  
“TK went to see his parents which, like, okay, fine. But it’s the middle of February and he just went for Christmas and like - maybe-I-miss-him.” He says the last part so quickly that Claude almost misses it but he catches it because he’s got a super power for understanding Nolan’s mumbling.

_haha fucking loser misses his bf,_ which he obviously doesn’t say because he’s a responsible adult who cares about his friend’s feelings but at the same time; _haha fucking loser misses his bf <3\. _

“He’ll be back in a few days, Pats.” And wow, Adult Claude is fucking nailing this whole giving relationship advice thing and he won’t be told otherwise. “Just, like, wear his hoodies and look longingly at every short guy you see. It’ll be totally creepy for the guys you stare at but therapeutic for you.”

“Claude, you’re short.”

  
  
Fucking _Ouch_. It’s true but don’t say it.

“We can make out if you’re missing him. Maybe, you need a short guy under you to keep you going. Like a reptile.”

  
  
And Claude was totally joking but Nolan’s looking at him like he’s actually considering it which, dude, what the fuck? But then Nolan shakes his head and goes back to having his face right in the cushions and he might be trying to suffocate himself - concerning - but it’s a quiet suffocation so Nolan can just do that while Claude continues Love Island.

  
  
Sweet.

This is great, Claude loves being in a frat.

* * *

Okay, taking back that last sentence. He hates it. Mostly, because Carter is nineteen years old and still doesn’t know how to use an oven despite Claude sitting him down and explaining in graphic detail - and even writing it out - how an oven works and that it’s safer to follow recipes.

  
  
Carter might be stupid despite being the smartest guy Claude knows.

Anyways, so Carter’s burnt something and may have set something on fire which is typical at this point, Claude’s used to this. What he’s not used to is standing outside his frat house in basketball shorts and a hoodie, watching firemen run in and out.

Okay, so. Maybe Claude’s homeless.

He’s standing there, desperately wishing he was wearing trousers because his legs are freezing, and Nolan’s next to him, sending death glares to Carter who couldn’t look more nonchalant if he tried. Claude just might kill him with Nolan. And there’s students coming out to stand on the sidewalk to see what’s happening.

And Claude spots his fucking professor leaning against a tree in sweatpants and a t-shirt, watching the scene unfold. _Shut the fuck up_. Claude’s already on the verge of tears and this might be his tipping point. It’s two in the morning, he has an exam tomorrow with said professor and he’s homeless.

Great. Phenomenal. He needs to scream for a few hours and then he’ll be good to go.

“Firemen said there’s no real damage, it’s just protocol.” Wayne says, coming back from talking to one of them.

“Oh, thank god.” Claude feels marginally better. “How big is our fine? Wayne, I’m a law student. I don’t have any fucking money. Not to be dramatic, but if it’s over five dollars, I’m offing myself on this sidewalk.”

“Not dramatic at all.” Jake mutters next to him and like, Claude really doesn’t need this, he’s having his tenth breakdown of the week, it would be really sweet if they could be nice to him. Obviously, they hate him and choose to keep chirping him. Absolutely no respect for their hockey captain and frat leader. No respect at all.

His professor then decides to slither off which, yeah, understandable it’s two am and it’s not interesting anymore, just a bunch of guys standing outside of a building waiting for their fine which will be like a million dollars because America’s fucked like that. Claude hates it here.

But like, the teacher didn’t even say anything. He didn’t even give out which, like, isn't that his job? He’s a professor and one of his student’s homes is getting raided by firemen because his stupid housemate doesn’t know how to use an oven. And he just said nothing. Rude.

* * *

  
  


The exam itself isn’t that difficult considering it’s a law exam and Claude happens to only own three brain cells and two of them are damaged from the amount of alcohol he consumes on a daily basis. So, he’s feeling pretty good, absolutely exhausted from hacking up a lung from the smoke the whole night, but still good. He turns it in and then decides he doesn’t want to go home and see TK and Nolan necking on the couch or see Kevin try to join Carter in doing goalie stretches. 

So, he hangs back in the cafeteria and manages to con his way behind the counter and into the kitchen, Carla the cafeteria lady loves him and he’s hungry and wants to eat something that doesn’t taste like smoke so he makes himself a sandwich and sits on the counter while he eats it.

And then his professor comes in, because, like, that’s just Claude’s luck and they lock eyes. And Claude’s already feeling pretty awful, so he doesn’t even scramble to leave like he usually would if he was sitting in the cafeteria kitchen eating a bad cheese sandwich and his professor just came in, he’s almost braindead from how tired he is and decides to offer his sandwich to his professor who looks just as tired as he is.

“You come here often?” Because, like, fuck you he’s a frat bro and proud, he’s going to flirt with any attractive man near him. His professor - Mr Briere, which he really should start referring to by name instead of just ‘Professor’ - is like, decent. He’s not gorgeous but Claude’s twenty-two and horny all the fucking time, so, he’ll do.

Briere shakes his head and then actually takes the sandwich and eats it. Which is a major dub for Claude. “I have you for a class.”

  
  
“Yeah. Just did a test.”

  
  
“I know. You didn’t do awful.”

  
  
Wow, he’s banging out the complements today. Claude rolls his eyes and the guy - Briere - notices and cracks a smile, which makes him look ten times hotter. This dude should be constantly smiling, what a beaut. Claude hums and then just waits for the guy (Jesus christ, Claude, he has a name) to continue the conversation. 

He doesn’t.

* * *

  
  


It’s a week later and they’re playing against the Penguins - stupid fucking name - when TK decides to just completely go off the walls and starts heatedly chirping at players at least twice his size (tiny fucker) despite the fact he’d get flattened by them, no questions. And Claude’s not the best fighter of the team and he’s also only an inch taller than TK, but he’s also the captain and his rookie just started a fight so - _ugh,_ he’s got to finish it.

He does. Get’s box time. Pens score. Whatever.

Stupid fucking name.

Oskar, the absolute beaut, gets them back in the game nearing the end of the second period and then from there they get two more goals in the third and call it a successful night. Best team in the league and whatever. He’s tired and slightly sore and his lip is busted and cheek bruised because TK is all bark no bite.

Whatever, that’s what Claude deserves for caring about rookies.

He’s halfway through planning what to have for dinner (McDonalds? They did win after all) when he sees Briere leaning against the wall outside the exit door looking like he’s waiting for someone, fucking creep, and Claude suddenly feels like he’s never had a coherent thought in his life other than ‘ _wow hot teacher_ ’ which sounds like a bad porn title. 

“Hey, sandwich student.” Okay, Claude’s not letting that stick.

“Hey, Sir.” Claude’s just respectful like that.

Briere smiles at that then looks down at his shoes, and maybe he’s waiting for someone else and they’re not Claude. Whatever, Claude can take a message. So, he shucks his bag strap higher onto his shoulder and makes his way to the door.

“Wait.” 

And Claude waits, turning back on his heels.

“You played good, Claude.” Fucker even says his name right. Claude might just nut right there and then. “Also, you got 87% on your test.”

  
  
Claude, honestly should have taken drama with the performance of ‘Heterosexual Man Who Does NOT Have The Hots For His Professor’ because he’s fucking nailing it. Briere has no clue Claude wants to shove his tongue in his mouth. “Goodnight, Brie.”

He doesn’t find out who Briere was waiting for.

* * *

  
  


There’s a coffee cup in his usual seat, which is actually really sweet and appreciated because Claude was in a hurry this morning and didn’t have time to get any himself so he says a small thanks to the mystery stalker. Is it really stalking if he enjoys the attention? That could be good in court, write that shit down.

He spends the whole class definitely not staring at Briere’s ass because he was taught better than that. Instead he thinks about what he wants to watch when he gets home (Twilight), what he should get his mom for her birthday (perfume), if Carter’s managed to salvage the oven yet (probably not), and basically anything other than his emotional boner for his professor who is currently explaining with extreme detail how to conduct a murder case.

He should be listening, or taking notes.

The coffee’s actually pretty good, a little on the sweeter side than Claude likes it, but the thought counts. And when he’s throwing the cup out in the bin next to Briere’s desk, Brie smiles up at him and - oh. Oh, okay.

“Thanks for the coffee, Brie.”

  
  
“You really shouldn’t call me that. I’m your professor.” Didn't deny it. Dub for Claude 2.0.

  
  
Claude hums. _Nah, still gonna call you Brie._ “What else should I call you?” He spots the plaque before Briere can remove or call him out for it. “Daniel?”

“Nobody calls me Daniel, it’s Danny.” Briere quickly corrects, before turning to glare at Claude. Claude loves when he pretends like he hates him. Kinky. “And you shouldn’t call me either. It’s ‘Sir’.”

  
  
“Kinky.” Claude says under his breath, and Brie definitely picks up on it, but says nothing. He checks the clock hanging on the wall; 2:23. He has practice in the next few minutes so he better get going. “Got to go, Danny. See you around.”   
  


And yeah, it totally sounds like their friends and yeah, Danny’s going to hate him for using his first name but Claude’s already out the door before Danny can say shit, so - he’s Danny now.

* * *

  
  


It’s a Sunday, and they have a game tomorrow, so obviously Kevin throws a party because he’s just built different and doesn’t experience normal hangovers like everyone else, the freak. Maybe it’s from how tall he is, it just spreads all over his body because Kevin’s like 9’7. Yeah, that makes sense. Him and TK tend to pass out before any of the taller guys are drunk so like, either it’s short guy solitary that him and Teeks happen to both be light weights or they’re both just awful at handling alcohol.

But, Teeks gets all soft when he’s drunk, telling all the guys how much he loves them and drooping himself all over Nolan and yelling to everyone how awesome Nolan is. Which is kind of sweet. Soft and sappy and disgusting to everyone else, but sweet still.

Claude’s just fucking stupid when he’s drunk. Like, right now, he’s convinced he just saw Danny which would be insane. For one; he’s Claude’s professor, why would he be here? Two; He wasn’t even invited, how did he know there was a party? And three; Claude’s fucking stupid when he’s drunk and this is probably some vision reminding him to do his homework.

Danny’s not here.

Danny’s here.

He catches Claude by his elbow in the kitchen. Claude, who knows no social cues apparently, lets out a hollar way too loudly; “Guys, Danny’s here!” as if any of the guys know who Danny even is.

They don’t, that’s nice. If he was at a party with his lawyer friends and was spotted with Danny, it would be instant chirping and teasing. But, other than an odd look from Jake, no one says anything. Sweet.

“Hey.”

  
  
Claude’s learnt that Danny is a man of few words which is totally cool but Claude likes his voice and because he’s drunk, it seems like a good idea to tell Danny this; “I like your voice.”

And then he leaves Danny blushing in the kitchen because the beer pong table has caught his eye and now that he’s out of his casts he’s a fucking monster at beer pong. He plays a round, crushes everyone easily, then spots Danny again and tries to rope him into playing duos with him against Carter and Kevin.

“Let’s go one v one.”

  
  
Claude thinks Danny’s a fucking genius. Turns out Danny’s also ridiculously good at beer pong so it’s a short match and by the end of it, Danny is loosened up and Claude is truly fucked up. Nice. He needs air. Claude catches his hand around Danny’s wrist and tugs him outside to get air after Jake and Wayne both ignore him when he asks to keep watching Joel do a keg stand. Losers.

Danny raises an eyebrow but Claude ignores it and collapses on the grass, taking big breaths. 

“My wife says that air doesn’t help you sober up.”

“Oh.” Because, like, fuck. There goes his ‘Seduce Your Law Professor’ Plan. 

“Well, Soon-to-be-ex-wife.”

“ _Oh._ ” Nevermind, it’s back on.

“I know you like me, Claude.” He sits down next to Claude. He radiates warmth and this is not how Claude assumed their break-up would be. He assumed they’d at least be dating to break up. Kind of sucks he didn’t even get to kiss Danny, now Danny’s going to let him down gently and Claude’s going to have to shave his head, learn Swedish and move to Finland. Sucks.

“I do.” No use denying it.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

Claude’s brain shuts down there and like, whatever. Sure, cool, totally gnarly. Except he doesn’t want to. So, he rolls over onto his stomach and then pushes up, coming face to face with Danny. He looks at Danny’s lips, and Danny must know what he’s about to do because he nods slightly, granting permission.

Claude goes for it, tongue and spit and all. It’s objectively the worst kiss he’s ever had but like, it’s Danny so automatically that makes it an A+, 5 stars, would recommend, oscar award winning kiss. Because, Claude at the end of the day, has the hots for his professor.

It’s really embarrassing.

Danny kisses back, and then grabs Claude’s face with his hands and stears it where he wants to go when he realises Claude has the coordination of a baby racoon when he’s drunk. And now it’s _good._ Kind of embarassing their first kiss is on his lawn while there’s a massive frat house party going on behind them, and he’s the leader of it. _Ew._ But, whatever, he’s got Danny.

“You busy on Friday?”

  
  
“You asking me on a date, Danny?”

  
  
“Of course I am.”

  
“Yeah, yeah I’m free.”

  
  
Then Carter ruins the moment by somehow getting the firemen to come by again. Claude didn’t even know the oven was on, he swears he unplugged it before the party.

Whatever, his house is on fire. Nice.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr; [@laurenault](http://www.laurenault.tumblr.com/) !


End file.
